


Keep Moving

by storiesbythefire



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Family, Family Drama, Gen, Humor, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-28 23:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3873937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesbythefire/pseuds/storiesbythefire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After receiving devastating news about her father, a young woman is forced to question who she is, her father's past, and relive the horrors that was the summer of 2013.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Moving

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of AU where Castiel is unable to save Sam from hell, leaving Dean to live with Lisa and Ben.
> 
> **tags will be updated as the story progresses**

How was it possible to live such a life? There was too much of everything. Blood. Guilt. Hatred. Death. It was just too much. How did anyone expect someone to live like this? I couldn't do it. I mean, dirty motel rooms, the constant moving, the uncertainty of the hunting life? It wasn't me. So I did what any sane person would do. I left. I packed my bags and found a little slice of that apple pie life I desperately wanted. I went to a high school where I joined the track team, and even dated the guy that sat behind me in Chemistry. 

Looking back, it was stupid. The moment I was forced to save my boyfriend from a demon, I knew I was done for. It wasn't because he thought I was a freak, or that my new world knew of my past. It was because I realized just how much I missed the thrill of the hunt. The adrenaline that pumped through my veins. The heart stopping moment when you turn the corner, hoping that a monster isn't waiting there for you. It was amazing. But what I missed the most was the feeling that washed over me after the fact. A feeling that says ‘yes, I saved them’ and damn it felt good. Normal was never part of who I was. The more I chased it, the more clouded my perception of reality became. Hunting gave me clarity. And this clarity helped me understand why I hated North Carolina so much. 

I never stopped moving. Not when I hunted with my father. Not even when I enrolled in a high school and joined track. Not until the rain came down and flooded the streets of North Carolina, trapping me in the confines of the Three Point Inn. It left me frozen. It felt like I was stuck at a red light, itching for it to turn green again. Life on the road is the only life I know. The constant moving, the dirty motel rooms, the uncertainty of the hunting life; I need it. I am not average Suzy who will get married and live with her husband and children, driving a minivan to PTA meetings. I am the girl who kills the things that stop her from having that life. I am a hunter. A hunter stuck in a motel room, watching the rain destroy the roads I desperately need to get back to my father. To get back home.

Dad will probably yell at me when I see him again, that is assuming he’d want to see me again. It’s been so long. I missed his birthday. I missed our annual trip to the Grand Canyon. I missed our fried chicken and football filled Thanksgiving. I missed Christmas. He would always act like these things didn't matter to him. That they weren't important. But I knew that he secretly waited for them, planning each moment to go perfectly. He wouldn't show it, but I feel that these moments are the only times he has ever genuinely cracked a real smile. And why wouldn't he? It was the only time he and I ever really got a break. It was like a breath of fresh air that only came four times a year. I wonder if he did those things without me. No. He must've just worked cases this year. No family sort of puts a damper on family bonding. But Dad and I are a little different in this regard. Despite our need to stay on the road, Dad sometimes forgets to stop at that red light, while I forget to go. 

I have to find him. I have to tell him I am sorry and that I finally know who I am supposed to be. Grabbing my phone from my back pocket, I began dialling. It rang, but no answer. I tried his other phone. Same result. Next. Next. Nothing. It wasn't like him to not answer my calls. No matter how angry he was, he would at least want to know if I am alive or not. He has never been this mad at me. Not even the time I stole the car and drove six hours for a concert. Where the hell was he? Was it payback for all the times I ignored his calls? My heart began racing and my forehead slick with sweat. I tried again, fumbling with the numbers. I couldn't keep my fingers steady as I shakily pressed the phone to my ear. Still nothing. 

“Dammit, Dad. Answer!” I repeated like a mantra, hoping to would hear a ‘so you finally decided to call’ on the other end. 

He is in trouble. That is the only possible conclusion. Dad is in trouble because I wasn't there to help him. He could be hurt right now. Captured. Tortured. 

This was my fault. Who knows where he could be. I tried to pushed the hair out of my eyes, but that attempt was in vain. Those strands of brown stuck stubbornly to my forehead. My mind moved from one possibility to the next. Captured by a Djinn and it is feeding off him right now. Held down by a demon, slowly killing him. In the middle of a pile of burning wood, lifeless. Dead. 

I ran towards the growing pile of clothing on my bed, throwing shirts and jeans onto the floor. After digging around, I pulled out my laptop. There must be another way to track him down. Credit card records, emails, anything to find out what he had been working on. 

“You don't have to do that. I can tell you where your father is.”

The laptop landed on the floor with a crash as I instinctively grabbed the gun tucked away in my waistband. I realized I was staring at the man who, despite the weather, always managed to wear a trench coat and a tie. His eyes, usually so blue, lacked the sparkle it had a year ago. He walked towards me, looking utterly defeated. His gaze never meeting mine. 

“I’m sorry to come in like this.” He looked exhausted as he lowered my hands and sat down on the bed, pulling me down with him. “I must have startled you.” A slight smile formed on his lips as he held my hands in his. Guilt was written all over his face. 

“God Cas! What the hell happened? Where is Dad?” He continued to look around the room, as if nothing was more interesting than the peeling floral wallpaper and the beat up desk in the corner of the room. 

“There is no way to put this lightly.” I braced myself for what he was about to tell me. 

“Believe me, I did everything in my power to stop this outcome. I don't know how-” 

“Just spit it out!” I yelled, finally looking straight into his blue eyes.

Then, with a deep breath, he said four words that made everything stop.

“Dean Winchester is dead.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I really appreciate it! If you did like it, please remember to give it a kudos!


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